Ink Blood
by The Unsolvable Riddle
Summary: He's nothing more than a forgotten memory, but he doesn't want to suffer alone... (NEW CHAPTER as of the 6th of Dec. Previously called Ink Scars. TomxGinny)
1. Ink Scars

Looksies! I'm writing a het fic! Ooh. Awh, I can't give the warning to go away if you don't like slash…it's Ginny/Tom Riddle. If you don't like this pairing, please shoo. Reviews are yummy-I mean nice. Flames give me indigestion, and are therefore a no-no. It features an older Ginny, a ghosty Tom, and a psychiatrist. I'm sitting at my computer with the Chamber of Secrets, so I hope I don't make too many mistakes…I'm taking a slight poetic license on Ginny's thoughts, because the book doesn't really say how she got 'hypnotized' by Tom. 

All characters from Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling, and all of the quotes are from the Chamber of Secrets, and all by Tom Riddle. Fun. There's a bit of movie cannon for the diary, just so you know.

As another note, Tom usually brought Ginny into the diary to control her, and then he sent her back out again. A little something I dreamed up. 

Ink Scars

__

("It's very **boring**, having to listen to the silly little troubles of eleven-year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply **loved** me…"

-Tom Riddle, p309 (American edition), chapter 17, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets)

"So, Miss Weasley…" The man looked down at a file. "You were the victim of the Chamber of Secrets incident, correct?" His voice droned, and the young lady with fiery red hair nodded, before opening her mouth.

"Yes. That would be correct. Did Dumbledore send for you?" Her voice never wavered.

"True. Now, do you feel like telling your story?" His voice lost it's boring tone, and he leaned forward in his chair. 

The girl never answered, but reclined on the couch and started talking;

"It's been five years, hasn't it? Yes, yes, it has. I can feel him sometimes, in the air around me, when it get cold. Deadly cold, and I have to stop my teeth from chattering…when I was in my first year, I was so naïve…I found the Diary in my cauldron from Flourish and Blotts, and thought that my mum had bought it for me as a surprise…"

__

"Here, girl - take your book - it's the best your father can give you-" Lucius Malfoy had told me, shoving my Transfiguration book at me. His eyes - they were sparkling with hate and malice. 

"I've often wondered what caused such a chaotic relationship between my father and him. I've never found out. Where was I?

Yes, my father had gotten into a fight with Lucius, and Hagrid had sorted them out. I didn't notice the book until my second day at Hogwarts. It was a diary, it seemed innocent enough. Though, it seemed to of been previously owned, for in a gold type at the bottom of the book, it read 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' I thought that Mum had bought it second hand, that used to happen a lot, or that someone had put it in my cauldron by mistake. 

I started writing in it, my own little diary, where I could write my own thoughts. I even magically locked it from a spell Hermione taught me. 

"I'd been writing in for…the first week, I think, that was innocent enough. Then, on the next Monday, someone wrote back. That petrified me for the rest of the day, I hadn't dared to open the diary, it had rested on my bed.

"When I found the courage to open it, it was blank, all of my other writings had disappeared. There was only one message;

****

'Hello, Ginny. My name's Tom Riddle. Don't be afraid, I can't hurt you, I'm trapped in this book. Please, you have to trust me.'

"And I did, foolishly. I remember my mother once telling me not to trust anything that can think on it's own if you can't see where it keeps its brain. But, I had so few friends then. I was just another Weasley, and had too many expectations of me. So I trusted Tom. I told him **everything…"**

("That's an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger.")

"I told him how I wished a boy in my brother, Ron's year, would like me. Harry Potter. He was so…extraordinary, superior where I was just another ordinary girl. I wasn't amazingly pretty, or very clever. I was just another Weasley with red hair and freckles. How I sometimes wished that we were rich, like the Malfoys, how I had second-hand books and robes, how all of my brothers used to tease me about my crush on Harry…"

("How she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would **ever **like her…")

"Tom made me feel appreciated, like I was someone special. My crush on Harry somehow faded away during the time I was writing to Tom. He told me he had once been sixteen, that he had gone to Hogwarts once, before Albus Dumbledore was the Headmaster. He had been alive 50 years ago, he said. 

"I asked him why he was telling me this. He said;

****

"Because you told me your secrets."

"The first attack began at Halloween…I-I had been writing in my diary just before the Feast was to begin. There…there had been an ink blot, and…then the whole page turned black. I could hear a voice in my head, a voice that I could only assume was Tom's. He told me…that…he would protect me, if I followed him.

"I was so desperate for someone to talk to, and I asked if I could see him. He said;

****

"Poor Ginny…maybe next time you will see me. But know that I can see you. I'll be watching you, Ginny, dear. Know that no one can hurt you when I'm watching."

__

"I don't remember anything after that. I woke back in the girl's dormitory, and figured I had been dreaming. Yet, at breakfast, Ron told me that Mrs. Norris had been attacked. My conscious hissed that it had been me, but I drove it away with rational thought. I'd been asleep the whole time. I was perfectly clean.

"Except that I'd woken up with bloody hands…Later, I had started to wake up with feathers on my robe, along with blood. Tom was playing games with my mind…but I didn't know. He even tried replacing my escapades with wonderful dreams. There was always a small suspicion in the back of my mind, but I still trusted Tom like a brother - and I thought of him as one. Or maybe more.

"Colin Creevy had been next, he only lived by seeing it through Nearly Headless Nick. This time, I saw Tom, just like he'd promised…

("If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed.")

"He was very handsome, jet black hair and deep brown eyes, with hints of dark red. His skin was so pale, and he had looked at me with tired eyes. He even looked sixteen. He couldn't of been lying to me. Yet by his robes, I could tell he had once been a Slytherin. But…somehow, that didn't apply. I didn't care.

"I think I started to fall in love with Tom then, which only fuelled my unfailing trust in him. When one of the girls in my dorm teased me, she would wake up with a spot, or a really bad hair day. Little things, that could have been chance. But I always felt as if Tom was doing it for me. 

"One time, he had kissed my forehead, his lips were ice cold against my warm skin, and I then knew this wasn't right. But I wanted, needed Tom so bad…

"Who was next? Oh, yes. Hermione. This had been the last straw for me, I tried to tell Harry or Ron before, but Percy had thought it was about him and Penelope Clearwater. Hah.

"But something still drove my passion for Tom Riddle. I couldn't go a day without writing to him. He was my best friend then. I used to say I had a boyfriend. He used deceive me, to cover my eyes and lips in kisses and tell me he'd never do it again if I told…he was the cure to his own poison.

"So he seduced me into doing his bidding. I loved him, with a fiery passion. I sometimes, at night, think he loved me back. Or maybe I was trying to fool myself, telling myself I was doing no wrong, even when I became aware of it. Hear, See and Speak no Evil.

("It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," said Riddle. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it.")

"When I finally couldn't take it any longer, and pushed Tom away, he had only smiled at me, and told me one thing, whispering in my ear as he had done before;

****

"You **need me just as much as I need you…"**

I remember trying to scream away my emotions, to somehow mentally block him. So I tried to get rid of Tom, of everything he had done to me. I put, or rather, threw it in a place that I thought no one would ever look for…

("You found it, and I couldn't of been more delighted. Of all the people who could of picked it up, it was **you**, the very person I was most anxious to meet…")

"I threw it Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, throwing it down the toilet that she usually inhabited. Tom, he must of unlocked the book himself, because I found Harry flipping through the pages of his diary. 

"I panicked, paranoia followed me around while I planned to get the diary back. What if Harry found out my secret, Tom furious with betrayal? I had told him **everything **I knew, thought and felt about Harry. What if Riddle tried to get to him instead? That gave me another reason to try and get the diary back. So one night, I snuck into the boy's dorm and took it back. When I saw him, I could feel my legs go weak, but I only asked, or rather, demanded of him one thing; what he told Harry?

"Tom was furious, I could see it in his eyes, but he only smiled and shrugged, before kissing me fully on the lips…

"And I was his slave again."

("Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me…")

"He made me write my own fate down on the wall in my own blood, and he brought me down to the Chamber.

"He was visible now, outside the pages of his diary. He was transparent, but still very handsome. His usually dead eyes were now alive, glittering with hunger and vengeance. The sight of him reminded me of how much I needed him, but also of how he had deceived me, how he had lied to me. Yet, the first thought was much more powerful, even though I went down into the Chamber kicking and screaming, and continued to do so until I could feel the life draining out of me, as he became more solid, more vibrant.

He had strolled over to me, and picked me up, lifting my head so I could see him. He just stared at me, and kissed me lightly on my forehead, my face, my neck. He finished with one last fiery kiss on the lips, and left me with a taste of something bitter and sweet at the same time, like lemonade without enough sugar. I had tried to follow him when he disappeared, but I fainted, and could only dream of him.

("Voldemort," said Riddle softly, "is my past, present and future, Harry Potter.")

I didn't know until afterwards that my Tom had been Voldemort. How could such a handsome young man turn into such a slaughter of the innocents, to something so deformed? I had heard from Harry about his battle in his first year, how he had been nothing but a parasite, a hideous creature.

("Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then-

He had gone.)

I only remember waking to see Harry after that. I had confessed everything, sobbing. He had told me that things would be alright now."

Ginny sat up, and rubbed her temples, wincing at the whole memory. The man was still looking at her, enthralled by her tale. She continued, now in the present, how he still affected her;

"Yet, they weren't. He still haunts my dreams - and my nightmares. I see him sometimes, in a large crowd, or a busy place - he's smiling at me, his eyes sparkling, and he's beckoning to me, to come and join him. I sometimes run to him, but then he's never there, only, strangely, a black feather. I have a large collection of them at home. Maybe I'm insane, I'm hallucinating. But he seems **_so real_**."

The psychiatrist nodded, and started to scribble a few notes on his clipboard. She continued, not even having to be asked.

"Harry and Ron can't protect me anymore. Hermione is the only one I ever really talk to about Tom. I don't know if I can ever love again." She puts her face in her hands, and stays like that, letting the man study her. She looks up again, and rubs her eyes. 

"The next year, on Halloween, I found these," She starts to roll up her long sleeves of the black shirt, "He's left his mark on me, so I can never forget him."

On her arms are patterns, patterns that look like they've been drawn on by quill and ink. They spiral, and merge, and then separate again, ivy clutching at her arms. At the top of either shoulder, is a snake that emerges from the ivy, and starts to climb up her neck, but stops abruptly.

"It will never come off, this I know." She says, her eyes sullen. "I can only live with the fact that I've been scarred for life. I think I still love him, sir."

With those final words, Ginny Weasley left the roomm, and the entire building, leaving the psychiatrist to ponder her words, her story. 

As Ginny arrived at the station, the tube train was crowded. When she managed to get a seat, she casually turned her head to the man next to her.

Jet black hair and dark, hungry eyes. Parchment skin and much more solid than ever. She reached out to touch his hand, and felt the familiar freezing skin. The man took her hand in his, and kissed it, his eyes never leaving hers, and hers never leaving his. When she opened her mouth to reply, his eyes only showed her one thing.

"Hello, Tom."


	2. Fairy Blood

Yes! You thought it was dead, but now, it rises from the grave like a flesh-eating zombie! Bwahaha.

See? I told you I'd get this finished. Now all I have to do is finish both parts to Peccata Mundi, and then I'm set. Until I get myself into another mess.

In other words, I've gotten off me lazy arse and decided to write another part to Ink Scars. 

Warnings: Tom/Ginny, deathfic if you look at it a certain way. Possibly could be considered to have the slightest hint of Ginny/Hermione, but it's not very obvious. This means that, yes, it's a miracle, this is primarily a het fic. If you prefer Ginny with another person, there's a nice little arrow that will take you back. Or you can let me corrupt you. I find Tom/Ginny a lovely couple because I can abuse Ginny to no end. Yay! The quote comes from 'Hero', sung by Chad Kroeger, you might know it from Spiderman.

I don't own Harry Potter, Spiderman, 'Hero' or Luxembourg. I've lived there, though. I'm so well traveled. :D I would also like to thank my dictionary god, a java Latin/English dictionary. *bows*

We hopes you enjoys it, my precious…

Fairy Blood

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{Someone told me that love would all save us,  
But how can that be?  
Look what love gave us,  
A world full of killing, and blood-spilling, that world never came…}

Ginny arrived home, or rather, the small apartment in Surrey that she and Hermione rented out. Her home would always be the Burrow. 

She held a bouquet of roses in her hand, wrapped in white silk. They were a gorgeous shade of red, like they had been doused in blood. 

Ginny had to stay with Hermione while Ron and Harry were out looking for Voldemort, because while Harry and Ron were off saving the world, and she and Hermione were left to be the damsels in distress.

She hated that.

Placing the roses on the kitchen table, she went to her room. 

Hermione came in fifteen minutes later, her gaze settling on the flowers. 

"Ginny?" She called. There was silence for a minute, before the younger girl appeared in the doorway.

"How was the doctor?" Hermione gave her a weak smile, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Ginny, dressed in a black sweater and dark blue jeans, returned the smile with a dry one.

Hermione said nothing, but noticed Ginny's hand. It looked as though it had been sliced through. Ginny quickly pulled her sweater over it. 

"It was fine. Just a shrink asking me about the Chamber. Nothing special." The redhead shrugged, and suddenly glared down at the floor, as if she was trying to decide something. "I'm going to go out, get some Chinese. You want anything special?" Ginny already had her jacket on, her hand on the door.

"Sure. Get me some duck and pancakes, would you?" Hermione's eyes wandered back to the roses, and jealousy shot up like a flame.

****

Those were her roses.

When Hermione turned back, she met a slammed door.

---

Ginny stood on the platform, her foot tapping. She cupped her hands and blew her breath into them, but the heat of her breath did little to ease the bitter cold.

A bag of Chinese food rested at her feet. She had to take the Underground everywhere, and with Hermione being so picky about food, she had to go into London to get 'decent' take-out. Then again, the owner always gave her a discount, so it was okay, she supposed.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Ginny automatically dismissed it as another beggar, or someone looking for something. She scowled, and didn't even turn to face the man speaking to her.

"Look, I'm really sorry, but it's almost midnight, I have to get this train to get back to Waterloo, and it's freezing cold. I'm sorry, but I can't help you." She snapped, glaring at the train tracks. She didn't want to look at her 'victim', because she might end up feeling sorry for him. 

"Are you sure about that?" Ginny jumped, her eyes widening. The voice was right near her ear, and had lost it's innocent tone. 

She knew that voice. This was the voice that echoed around in her head at least ten times every single day of her life, since she was eleven.

She turned her head, and met two dark, blood-red eyes. A smirk danced across the blue lips, as a look of fear and surprise passed the girl's face.

The girl in front of him seemed at a loss for words, and the eyes staring at back just laughed. 

The train pulled up in front of the two, blowing Ginny's hair towards the man next to her. 

"You getting on?" He almost laughed, but something much more dangerous rang through his deep voice. 

She didn't need to answer, because she was under his spell all over again. She shook her head dumbly. He laughed, and brushed his thumb against her cheek. 

"Come along, Ginny." He roughly took her hand, and he jumped down, off of the platform and onto the tracks. 

Reason ran away with the train, and when she jumped, Tom caught her. 

----

They had been walking for miles, at the very least. Through dark, disturbing tunnels, with rats that hissed and squealed at their arrival. 

Tom suddenly stopped, almost as if he too was lost.

A thought struck Ginny, and it struck her down hard.

"You're dead." She stated simply, almost bluntly. The man, who she was now just as old as, laughed. It wasn't that high, cold laugh, it was a deep, low one, that echoed back through the tunnels. 

An almost human laugh. 

"Don't you still have those scars on your arms, Ginny? Those are my mark, not unlike the Dark one. Personally, I think it's genius. I draw power from you, from all of my Death Eaters." His eyes glinted in the murky gray of the Underground tunnels, leaning in very close to her, his face parallel to hers. "That doesn't matter, anyway. The me of now is in Luxembourg. They wouldn't even consider looking for me there, it's much too peaceful, too rural, too small." This flew over Ginny, she didn't seem to realize what kind of secret she was now holding.

Harry and Ron were looking for him in India.

"How can you be here?" She whispered, but he heard her. 

"I am simply a powerful memory, almost like a tangible ghost. The fact that you still believe in me is quite a nice source to draw power from." He took her wrists, and leaned in close.

Very close. 

When he kisses her, the touch becomes memory, which becomes a rush of so many things she tried to forget. The diary, Harry, how she nearly killed everyone, how so much pain could have been avoided.

How Harry Potter had to save her. How she had to be the damsel in distress.

Tom's eyes are closed, his eyelashes gracing his eyelids. Ginny stares at them, her eyes half-closed and glazed.

When Tom pulls away, her lips are split, and he just stares at the color that bursts from the cut.

Touching age-old memories is never supposed to happen. It causes horrible things to happen the human body, mortal in every possible way. Body, mind and soul. 

The only reason being with Tom didn't kill the eleven year old Virginia Weasley by pure touch alone was because Tom had a connection to the present - his diary. 

His diary had been destroyed by his very own creature, the Basilisk's fang. He can't be here. Tom smirked, obviously in tune to her thoughts.

That poison still ran through his body, coursed through his veins. He explained, rather vaguely;

"Harry Potter made a mistake when he plunged that fang into my diary. It may have destroyed my past's link the present world;

But all memories linger on." 

"You simply cannot kill them. That poison was my salvation, it filled me with that last burst of black magic that forced me to survive." 

The blood that spills from Ginny is a dark, dark red, dark scarlet and crimson. Her cheek has a long gash running down it, that throbs with that same liquid.

Her eyes are dulled with the pain, she can taste metal in her mouth. 

She exhales sharply as her feels something slice at her wrists, an invisible blade. 

She has to get away from Tom, one more touch from him might kill her. 

She tries to walk away backwards, but trips over a piece of the track. She cries out, and Tom grabs her, grabbing both her wrists again.

"Can't let anything happen to you, can I?" He murmurs, and wipes the blood off of his hands.

"Stop it!" She finally screams, her terror of Tom finally manifesting. She can see her reflection is Tom's eyes, they look like pools of blood. She closes her eyes and turns her head away. 

Tom suddenly is holding her, one hand still holding her wrist, the other supporting her back. She can feel his hand eat away at the skin, as tears sting her eyes. 

"Effluo memoria!" He hisses, and his eyes glow, his pupils dilating. Black and silver magic shoots out of his eyes, and into Ginny's. She chokes on her own breath, before starting to sob. He drops her, and she falls to the ground, but her body never hits it.

Rather, she hovers slightly above it, her body parallel to the ground.

Tom walks over to her, his eyes on fire. He pulls down her shirt, so that it hugs her shoulders, and smiles at his work of art, tracing it with a finger. 

Her ink scars are complete, they run up her face, and into her fiery hair. Ivy clutches to her skin, and a snake bites her neck. 

----

There's a knock at the door, and Hermione answers it. 

Nothing.

She bites her lip, and looks around outside, and down the hallway.

Hermione looks down to her feet, and sees a bag. Bending down to open it up, she looks confused when she realizes it's the Chinese Ginny had gone to get. 

"Ginny! Ginny, are you here?" She yells, picking up the bag. 

A girl, invisible to the untrained Eye, sits in the corner of the entrance to the complex, sobs shaking her body. 

This isn't fair. She didn't deserve this!

Outside, Tom leans against the wall of the building, paying no attention to the bitter cold. 

----

Hermione sits at the kitchen table, wondering what she should do.

It must have been Ginny who left the bag. 

However, the girl was nowhere to be seen.

Wondering who she should try to contact, Hermione stood up, and paced around the apartment.

She'd give Ginny one more hour. If she wasn't back by then…

She didn't want to think about that.

----

The roses, which Hermione had put into a vase earlier that night, suddenly started to glow.

The water they rested in turned blood red, and something like a shadow shot up the flowers. Their petals became black, and the thorns seemed to become much more threatening. 

Ginny gasped when she touched the flowers, quickly drawing her hand back. The young man behind her smirked, and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

Hermione was in a fitful sleep on the couch, still hoping that Ginny would come back. 

"Go say goodbye." He whispered in her ear. She nodded, and walked towards the couch. 

"Hermione?" She whispered. The girl made no movement. Ginny looked back at Tom, who shrugged, but ushered for her to continue.

"Mione, I don't know if you can hear me, but, I'm really sorry for all the trouble I've caused you. Don't come looking for me, because I can't be found."

"Ginny?" The girl murmured, her eyes half open and fogged with sleep. "Ginny, what's the matter?"

"I-I have to go, Mi. You won't remember me soon." 

"Why? Ginny, what's the matter? Ginny, why are you-" Hermione's eyes focused, and soon only the outline of the girl was visible.

Ginny was on the verge of crying, and Tom looked away. Even he felt pity for her.

"Because I'm nothing more than a forgotten memory."

"Aren't we all, Ginny?"

----

"Hermione! Hermione, we're home!" Ron and Harry walked into the living room, to find Hermione sitting on the couch, both hands covering her mouth. A picture in it's frame was on her lap, and she looked worried.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" Harry and Ron leant over the side of the couch.

"Do you know who this is?" Hermione held the picture up. Harry suddenly looked very worried as well, but shook his head. Ron's face lit up.

"Of course, Hermione! That's - Oh, God, I had it a second ago. She's very pretty, though." 

"I, I think she's supposed to be very important, but, but, I can't remember!" Hermione's voice almost broke into a sob, and both of the young men looked at each other, now distressed themselves. Yes, that girl in the picture looked disturbingly familiar, but the face's name was just out of their grasp.

With shaking hands, Hermione took the picture out of its frame, and turned it over to see if a name or a date was written there.

The only marking there was some smudged ink. Hermione bit her bottom lip, and her eyes scanned the front of the picture again. 

Wait…who is this? She's supposed to be important, isn't she? 

In the kitchen, the only midnight rose remaining dropped its first petal.

__ ****

Finite Incantatem


End file.
